


an old friend

by Stackthedeck



Series: avatar assistants [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Desolation Avatar Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Smoking, The Desolation Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), spoilers for end of season three and beginning of season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stackthedeck/pseuds/Stackthedeck
Summary: A cigarette dangles from Jon’s lips, barely staying in his mouth as his teeth chatter. His hands shake as he fumbles with the lighter. How long has he been at this? The lighter falls from Jon’s shaking hands. It’s so cold and he’s so goddamn on edge. He should just go back inside. He can’t even smoke a cigarette right.“Need a light?”
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Series: avatar assistants [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053383
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	an old friend

There’s a small courtyard outside the Magnus Institute, quite a rare thing for a building in central London. Jon often takes his breaks out here, it’s nice to be out of the archives if only for a moment. Today, it’s cold and Jon is shaking. It’s always cold in London in the middle of January, but this cold bites down to the bone.

A cigarette dangles from Jon’s lips, barely staying in his mouth as his teeth chatter. His hands shake as he fumbles with the lighter. How long has he been at this? On a day this cold, he would just smoke inside. One cigarette doesn’t hurt. Except for the one time it did. But Basira gave him this look as soon as he put the damn thing in his mouth. So he’s out here in the cold, struggling to light his goddamn cigarette.

He should just go back inside. Who cares that Basira looked at him strangely, it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe she’s just concerned for his health, he did just wake up from a coma after all. Maybe she’s worried that he’ll ruin something in the archives and that something will be the missing piece, the final clue that will help them defeat whatever it is that they’re fighting. Maybe another person will be murdered while he’s on a smoke break.

Maybe Basira just doesn’t like the smell of smoke. Maybe she didn’t mean anything by it at all. God, Jon was supposed to be done with paranoia. He just needs a cigarette to calm his nerves.

“Goddamn it!” The lighter falls from Jon’s shaking hands. It’s so cold and he’s so goddamn on edge. He should just go back inside. He can’t even smoke a cigarette right.

“Need a light?” A figure stands at the edge of the courtyard. The light hits them in such a way that Jon can’t make out any features. Thoughts of angler fish and strangers race through Jon’s mind, this thing could be dangerous. Or they could be a person that saw him struggling and wants to help. 

Jon’s done with being paranoid. 

“Yes, that’d be great,” Jon calls to the person as he mentally congratulates himself for stopping his chattering teeth.

The figure lingers at the edge of the courtyard for a moment. They shift in a way that Jon can only describe as flickering. Then, they move.

The person is inches away from Jon when he finally puts the pieces together. He recognizes him. But this can’t be right. It has to be some kind of cruel trick from the stranger or the spiral or some other entity that exists to fuck with his head.

“Tim?” Jon breathes the words with fear, but also with hope. Perhaps If Jon could survive the explosion, maybe Tim could too.

“Do you want a light or not, Jon?” Tim growls the words with the same anger and frustration that haunted him his last months, but they’re slower now as if he has all the time in the world.

Jon pulls his eyes away from Tim’s face and to the small fire between his fingers. But there’s no lighter in his hands, just a flame caught between his index finger and thumb. Despite his better judgment, Jon leans forwards and lights his cigarette.

As soon as the cigarette catches, Tim steps away from Jon. He leans against the building, head turned away from Jon, eyes staring off into the distance. Jon takes a long drag of his cigarette, eyes fixed on Tim. He’s warm, so warm that Jon’s not shaking anymore. Standing next to Tim feels like sitting next to a campfire. It’s nice, almost comforting.

“How-” Jon starts to ask, but Tim whips his head around and glares with a heat Jon hasn’t seen for a long time.

“No. Questions,” Tim says through gritted teeth. “I didn’t come back to give you a statement.”

Jon nods. He wants to know what happened to Tim, but it wouldn’t be fair to compel him. So he grabs another cigarette from his pocket. “Care to join me?”

Tim does a half smile and takes the cigarette. The way his face moves is off; it’s slower, almost like it’s dripping. His skin is waxy, not in a sickly way because he’s absolutely glowing. His complexion reminds Jon of Jude Perry. His hand burns with the memory.

Tim puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it with his finger. The sides of it are blackened where he grabbed it, but not burned. Tim’s hot, but he can control it, for the most part, it seems.

“You’re an avatar of the desolation,” Jon says, trying very hard not to turn into a question.

Tim chuckles and rolls his eyes. “What gave you that idea?” He lets the fire on his fingers linger for a moment, if only for dramatic effect.

Jon chuckles too. “Maybe because you’re wearing a Hawaiian shirt in the middle of winter.” When the words leave Jon’s mouth he realizes that they’re true. Tim usually did wear a button-up shirt with an unprofessional pattern even in winter, although he’d usually put a jacket on top. It really is Tim, just a little warmer. Jon laughs even harder with relief. 

Tim’s chuckle turns into a full laugh. “Says the man who wears sweater vests in July.”

Jon moves to playfully bump his shoulder against Tim, but freezes. Tim notices the motion and stops laughing. For a moment they just stare at each other, frozen in an almost act of affection.

Tim takes a long drag of his cigarette, watching as Jon slumps against the wall. They’re a safe distance from each other, but a passerby would think they’re total strangers.

“Don’t want to touch me?” Tim blows out a puff of smoke.

“Tim, I-”

“Don’t want to get burned?”

Jon clutches his burned hand. It still hurts sometimes. He can still feel the fire, the heat, the desolation. Even if Tim isn’t Jude Perry, there was that boy that Agnes Montague dated. The desolation exists to destroy, no matter the affections of the avatar.

“Of course I want to touch you,” Jon sighs, “I miss you, I thought you were dead. I want to hug you to make sure you’re real and not some horrible joke. You were-or, I guess, are my friend-maybe not at the end but-”

“Jon,” Tim cuts him off, “of course we’re still friends.”

Jon presses his head into the wall, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “It didn’t feel like it. You were so angry.”

“And I deserved to be,” Tim says, “For god’s sake, my brother was killed by a clown and I was stuck working here. I’m still angry, I’m not even sure what at anymore, but it has somewhere to go now.” As he talks, his body pulses with heat. Jon knows he should be scared, but he’s warm like a campfire and he smells like smoke. This is the first time he’s felt comfortable around anyone for a while.

“You’re alive,” Jon sighs with a faint smile on his lips.

“I guess.” Tim shrugs. “It doesn’t feel like it. Water wasn’t my drink of choice before, but now I don’t even want to drink anything, not even iced coffee. I don’t eat because I’m hungry, I just eat to consume something. I don’t even know if I have heart, much less feel it beating.”

Jon watches Tim take a drag of his cigarette. He doesn’t breathe out a puff of smoke, probably forgot that he’s supposed to. 

“Is this what it feels like to be a monster?”

Jon knows Tim’s asking because Jon’s not fully human either. “You’re not a monster until you hurt someone.” Jon takes a step closer to Tim. He wants to ask if he’s hurt someone, but it wouldn’t be fair to pull it out of him. And maybe Jon doesn’t want to know.

“Maybe you’re right.” Tim pinches the last of his cigarette between his fingers. It goes up in flames. Tim doesn’t flinch, just watches the flames dance in his hand. “I’ll be seeing you.” Tim pushes off the wall and begins to walk away.

“Tim, wait!” Jon pushes off the wall too and almost lunges to grab Tim’s hand, to pull him back. Some part of his brain is keeping him from getting burned, but he still wants to hold him.

Tim pauses, waiting for the right words.

“You can’t just show up out of the blue after we all thought you were dead and leave just as fast as you came back. I need some kind of closure.”

Tim doesn’t turn around, but he’s still waiting. “Can’t you just know?”

“I want to hear it from you,” Jon says, “I’m not going to reach inside your head.”

Tim turns around, but doesn’t walk towards Jon, just quirks an eyebrow.

“Besides-” Jon drops his cigarette and grinds it beneath his heel, it still had a few more drags, but that doesn’t matter. Jon pulls another cigarette from his pocket “-I could use a light.”

Tim smiles, it’s still not quite right, but Jon doesn’t notice. They stand inches apart. Tim holds his flickering fingers in front of his face. Jon leans forwards and lights the cigarette in his mouth. They’re so close and Tim is so warm, Jon wants to hug him so bad. When was the last time he hugged someone?

Tim backs away before Jon does. He leans against the wall again, pressing the back of his head against the bricks so that he’s looking towards the sky. He exhales slowly, it sounds like water sizzling as it hits fire. His breath mists the cold winter air. He looks so human.

“Is this your way of asking without asking?” Tim smirks, turning his head towards Jon.

“I suppose it is.” Jon sighs, blowing a puff of smoke towards the sky.

“I’m not giving you a statement,” Tim growls, “I’m not giving anything else to this place.”

Jon presses his lips into a thin line. “I understand.”

“I’m telling this to you-” Tim closes his eyes with a deep sigh “-I’m not telling it to the Eye or Elias or whatever, I’m telling you as a friend.”

Jon wants to reach out and grab Tim’s hand, just to squeeze it and remind him that he's here. But he’s scared. The fear of getting burned is in the back of his mind, but what Jon is really scared of is pushing Tim away. 

Jon shoves his hands in his pockets. “Thank you, Tim.”

Tim pauses for a moment, just watching Jon. “I guess I always liked fire,” he finally says with a shrug, “I mean, what little kid doesn’t play with matches or fireworks. Whenever me and Danny would going camping or rock climbing or doing his stupid urban exploring I would make the campfire. There was something so comforting but exciting about fire.”

“You always managed to bring some of it into the archives,” Jon laughs.

“Hey!” Tim says with mock offense, “what birthday cake is complete without candles?”

“And what holiday party is complete without sparklers?” Jon raises his eyebrows pointedly. 

“Oh come on, those were great!” Tim knows Jon’s not actually mad, they had a blast at holiday parties. An odd part of him is glad that Jon still has a tiny part of him clinging to the mask of an uptight dork. It’s nice to know that some things never change.

Tim sighs, shaking his head. “But I guess during the Unknowing was when I changed. I was holding the detonator and I wasn’t scared. I was excited because I saw fear in Nikola’s eyes, the same fear I felt when they took my brother. I wanted them to be scared of me, of the fire I was going to create. It was the best I felt in a long time.” 

Tim looks up at the sky, visibly shaken as if he’s hearing himself for the first time. “God, I sound like a monster.”

Jon wants to reach out to grab Tim’s shoulder, let him know that he’s not. But he’s scared to get burned. Nikola was a monster and Tim did the right thing, but Jon’s a monster now too. “You saved the world, Tim.” Those aren’t the words Jon wants to say, but he’s not sure what he wants to say.

“I guess.” Tim shrugs. “I guess when I got caught in the explosion was when I really changed into… an avatar or whatever. Wax sculptures were everywhere so I just made myself a body and I just kept moving.”

“Where-I mean did you- wait-”

“Jesus Christ, Jon,” Tim cuts him off, “you really can’t help but ask questions.”

“I can ask questions, it’s just hard to control if I’m compelling you.” Jon sighs and takes a long drag of his cigarette. “Being an avatar is...complicated.”

“You’re telling me-” Tim cracks a smile “-I went back to my apartment after I looked human enough and literally every smoke detector went off.”

“That’s not so bad.” Jon shrugs.

“No, Jon.” Tim steels his face, looking deadly serious. “I mean literally every smoke detector. In the building.”

“Oh good lord,” Jon says, trying very hard, but failing not to laugh.

“I’ve gotten a new apartment.” Tim shakes his head with a smile. “I’ve gotten to the point where it’s only my smoke detectors that go off.”

“So you’re doing alright then?” Jon tries his hardest not to compel Tim into telling him, but he desperately wants to know if he’s okay. 

“I guess so.” Tim smiles at Jon, but then turns away, looking into the distance. “I haven’t quite got the hang of this avatar business. I have to scare people, put fuel on the fire if I want to exist, but I don’t want to.”

“Tim…” And there’s that need again. Jon wants to hold him, let him know that he understands how he feels.

“I don’t want to be like Jude Perry, just hurting people for fun. I don’t want to be like Agnes Montague who burned her boyfriend’s face off. And I definitely don’t want to join some stupid cult.” Tim’s skin grows waxier and the warmth around him begins to burn. He takes a deep breath, the air cools, and he looks like himself again. “But I have to do something.”

Jon takes a drag from his cigarette, watching Tim not look at him. “You could scare other avatars.”

“What?” Tim turns to look at Jon.

“Well, you killed Nikola, why not other rituals? You could help people.”

“That’s a dangerous game, Jon.”

Jon presses the back of his head against the wall. “I know.” God, he knows better than anyone. He’s supposed to be like Gertrude, save the world, but to what end? Where did that lead her?

“I could use some help in saving the world.” Jon laughs sadly, taking the last drag of his cigarette.

“Maybe.” Tim forces a smile.

Jon puts out the butt of his cigarette against the wall. He and Tim stand looking at each other. Jon has run out of excuses to stay out any longer, but he wants Tim here with him for just a little longer.

“I-um-”

“You said you wanted to touch me?” Tim blurts out. “To make sure I’m really me?”

“I-uh-I guess I did.” Jon flushes out of embarrassment, but he hopes Tim chalks it up to the heat.

“I’m still not great at controlling...all this-” Tim motions to himself “-but I promise I won’t try to hurt you.”

Tim extends his hand and Jon’s stomach drops. He never thought he’d be dumb enough to shake the hand of another avatar of the Desolation, but it’s Tim. It’s Tim who’s smiling nervously and wearing an obnoxious Hawaiian shirt in the middle of January.

Jon extends his own hand, but freezes halfway through. The scar hasn’t healed, despite all his avatar powers, Jude Perry’s mark is still there. He can see her cruel smile, feel her white hot grip, smell his flesh burning away. He’s going to get burned again.

Tim sees Jon’s hesitation and some part of him breaks. Of course, he’s too scared to touch him. Tim’s a monster, no different than the one that burned Jon before. If there’s one upside of being an avatar of the Desolation, it’s that he doesn’t have tears anymore.

Jon sees the way Tim’s body begins to fold into itself, the way his hand begins to close, the way his eyes flicker with disappointment. It’s Tim and he’s worth getting burned for.

Jon thrust his hand out and clutches Tim’s hand. It’s warm and waxy, but doesn’t burn. It feels like he’s holding the hand of someone nervous on the first date. Jon almost cries with relief.

Before he can stop himself, Jon yanks Tim towards him and wraps his arms around him. Tim goes stiff and heat surges out of his body.

“Jon-” Tim takes measured breaths, his body cooling with each exhale “-what are you doing?”

Tim is stiff, arms snapped to his side. He knows that he should pull away. He could hurt Jon and that’s the last thing he wants to do. But Jon is holding on to him so tightly and pulling away would burn just as much.

“Please,” Jon says, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a hug.”

Tim takes a shaky breath, forcing as much heat as he can out of his body. He wraps his arms around Jon and pulls him close. Jon buries his face in Tim’s shoulder, letting himself relax into his embrace. Tim rests his chin on Jon’s head, he still smells like cigarette smoke and musty old papers. When was the last time he hugged Jon? He got weird after Jane Prentiss, they all did. Hell, when was the last time he hugged anyone?

“Jon, I-'' Tim breaths the words, but he’s not sure what he means to say. Holding Jon in his arms, knowing that he feels safe in his warmth instead of fear of his fire, makes Tim feel like he could be the same man he was before everything. Before the desolation and the unknowing, even before the Institute. He’s just Tim again.

“I really do miss you,” Jon says, words muffled because he has his face pressed into Tim’s shoulder. “I miss when this was just a job and I miss Sasha and Martin and I miss-”

Tim pulls Jon closer to him, running his hand over Jon’s back. If Jon cries, then Tim will want to cry, but he won’t be able to. It’s awful wanting to cry, but not have any tears.

“I don’t miss it.” Tim forces a laugh. It sounds stilted even to his own ears, but he’s not going to let Jon or himself mourn the past. They’ve done enough of that. “You were an absolute prick.”

Jon sniffs then laughs too. “I suppose I was.” He slowly unwraps his arms from Tim. Tim holds on for just a second longer, then takes a step back.

“You were so uptight back then.” Tim lightly punches Jon’s shoulder. “You were trying so hard to convince everyone that you were a professional.”

“Well, yes.” Jon smiles at Tim, rolling his eyes. “That’s back when I thought I could be fired.”

A heavy silence falls between them. It’s hard to miss the pass when the awful truth of the present lingers between them. Jon’s stuck at the Magnus Institute and Tim’s only free because he’s dead.

Tim sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “I would offer to light another cigarette for you, but three a day is a bit much.”

“Tim-” Jon starts to say.

“I better be going.” Tim rubs the back of his neck. “You probably have a lot to do.”

Jon reaches out and takes Tim’s hand. He doesn’t want Tim to go. He’s warm and smells like a campfire, but just underneath that is the cologne he always wore too much of. Tim’s back and he’s one less person Jon has to mourn. 

“You’re not a monster, Tim.” That’s not at all what Jon wants to say. “You saved the world.”

Tim smiles and squeezes Jon’s hand. “You’re not a monster either. We saved the world and we’ll do it again.”

Tim lets go of Jon’s hand and walks away. He fades into the distance, and it is suddenly very cold again. Jon shakes with the freezing wind, and with his nerves, and with everything. He’s not a monster. He wants to believe it’s true.

Jon stays in the courtyard until his fingers go numb, staring off at where Tim disappeared. Then he goes back into the archives.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hoped you enjoyed it! Don't forget to kudos and comment if you did. I haven't written in a while so constructive criticism is appreciated. This is the first part of a series of the archive assistants as avatars, if you want comment your favorite assistant and what kind of avatar you'd like to see them as.


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